


Cleansing for the Soul

by RaverSawyer (RockSiren)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bathing, F/M, Future Fic, Rebirth, mild-spoilers adwd, theon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSiren/pseuds/RaverSawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeyne puts "Reek" to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rebirth of Theon

**Author's Note:**

> Im no Martin, just a bit of a drabble. I'm not a nitpicker about the minutiae of the story and details; it was just a story about Theon and Jeyne. It may have more of a positive spin on it than GRRM, but like I said, I'm not GRRM. Not as gritty, but I tried my best to make it gritty-enough to be real. I wanted to make a halfway-decent life for them after the chips fall where they may. I myself have my own scars (nothing like our heroes here) but I like the concept that people can grab happiness where they can and that people can survive terrible things. It's just a fan-story. Didn't mean for it to be multiple-chapters, but my writing gets away from me. Working on some more =) Lemons coming- pervs ;)

 

      He was surprisingly hard to find.  During the rebuilding, people barely noticed him.  Jeyne could not figure what was worse- constant scorn as a turn cloak, or no acknowledgement at all.  She found him curled up underneath the Heart tree, his silver head slumped against his chest, his hands curled up defensively around him.  Jeyne didn’t touch him immediately, but stood back and looked at him.  A shiver went through her.  She meant what she said- as a child, she watched from the parapets as the cocky, chestnut haired youth bested all of the other boys at archery in the practice yard.  His easy smile, his occasional winks to her which made her redden and move back from the edge.  His hair had started to regrow and regain some color, as he started to gain some much needed weight.  Theon had finally allowed her to sit with him at meals, ashamed of his makeshift teeth.  A traveling Maester, known as the Tooth Drawer, had fashioned him replacements for his missing teeth, allowing him to eat solid foods.  His smile would never be as it had been, but the gaps filled with other men’s teeth and gold replacement at least allowed him to eat.

      Jeyne knew what he did- but she didn’t have it in her to judge.  When she had been trapped with her…husband…he was the only one who had tried to be kind to her.  When he had been forced to pleasure her, she could close her eyes tight and pretend it was that boy she had admired. 

     She reached out to him, stroking his hair.

      “Theon…” she whispered.  His eyes snapped open, wildly looking around until they fixed on her and they squeezed shut again.

      “Theon…yes that is my name”, he looked up at her, and she smiled at him gently.

      “It is good to know your name.”  Her hand dropped to his tattered clothes, still the same he had worn after the wedding, during the battle and ever since.  They were dropping off of him.

       She smiled and he relaxed slightly at her touch, exhaling.

      “It is time.”  He was confused, but took her outstretched hands and followed her into the bathhouse, having to go through the Keep. 

      “Where are you taking me?” Theon asked, with a small lilt of panic going through his voice.  Jeyne did not answer, only gently squeezed his hand.

      He stopped at the stone doorway, his breath steaming in the cold air.

      “NO!” he shouted at her, but did not attempt to move.

      “It is just you and I.  You have seen all of me.  Let me take care of you.” She responded gently. 

      Theon didn’t argue.  He was petrified.  Could not move.  She couldn’t see him without these clothes…not _her._ He inhaled sharply with fear as she approached him with a dagger.

      “Shut your eyes.” And he did.

       Jeyne went to work on his clothing.  They almost melted away under the touch of the sharpened blade.  She smiled- she knew he would never let her take them off of him, and this way he cant put them BACK on afterwards.  She started with the laces of his tunic.  Still unbelievably skinny, the laces split and it fell to the floor, followed by his doublet.  The stench was great, but she almost didn’t notice it anymore.  When she reached his under tunic, she pulled it over his head, and he stretched out his arms to do so.  His pale skin came into view, and she would’ve gasped if he hadn’t been able to hear her. 

       His torso was dotted with scars- burns and indentations where the skin had been peeled away.  A nipple was missing.  He had gained a little bit of muscle in the last few months, but was nearly skeletal.  She rubbed the dirt streaked skin gently with her hands, and he kept his eyes downcast, looking at the floor. 

        “Shut your eyes” she said again, noticing the way his breathing became labored when he saw the knife.  He squeezed them shut again.

       She cut through his belt, little more than a rope, and prepared herself for whatever mauling had been done to him underneath his britches.

      A drop landed on her hand, and she saw he was crying now, whimpering barely audibly in the back of his throat. 

      ‘My father was lucky…a quick death.’ She thought to herself.

       “Shhhh”, she said to him, touching his face gently.  As she pulled his britches down, she took a deep breath.  What had once been a handsome man was now a pale slip of a person in front of her, scared of his own shadow.

       Jeyne gasped.  He cried harder, his eyes still shut.

      “My Lady, please let me turn around.  I have no…they took my…please!” he pleaded pitifully, turning his back on her. She started crying seeing the whipping scars that ran up and down his back. 

      "Theon…please open your eyes.   Look at yourself.  No one is going to interrupt us here.”  Long moments passed, Theon reached out to the stone wall, steadying himself. 

       “Jeyne- I cannot”

       "Just look.”   She saw his head drop and a guttural wail filled the room.  His shoulders shook with sobs.  Jeyne stood back, unsure what to do.      “He told me…they had…they showed it to me!” 

      “They lied.  I think it was another game.”  Jeyne kept her face still, but the tears ran down her cheeks, as he turned towards her.  His manhood was unscathed…a few burn scars on the area surrounding it, on his thighs.  One kneecap misshapen; the improper healing of a crushing blow.

      “You never looked for yourself?”

      “I did not dare.” 

       Jeyne didn’t say anything further.  She quickly undressed herself.  She was not embarrassed- he had seen ALL of her already.  Besides he needed her to help him, and on some level, she needed him.  She won’t ever forget her maidenhead being taken the night of her wedding, roughly, by her lord.  And a candlestick.  And a club.  And anything else he found suitable lying around the bed chamber.  She unconsciously squeezed her legs together at the memory. 

       Theon watched her, stunned.  He did not understand why she wanted to help him.  He was a betraying swine.  Or he had been.  Before he had been no one.  He watched her dress slip to the floor, the smooth pale skin of her shoulders.  A memory came unbidden- She must’ve been 8- he was 13.  They had all been swinging from the hayloft in the stables onto a huge pile of rags and hay below.  He and Robb took the plunge after the girls.  Theon remembered the feeling of soaring, flying through the air.  She was giggling next to him as he emerged, his head covered in straw.  They locked eyes and she kissed him on the cheek, before grabbing Sansa’s hand and running away.  He wiped the kiss away from his cheek, rolling his eyes and getting up, brushing the dust from his clothes. 

       Now Jeyne was to her small clothes, and as her shift slipped down her form, Theon winced to himself seeing the scars of bite marks on her torso and breasts, some more faded than others.  He felt a slight stirring, but kept it at bay.  The last thing she needed was him, erect and coming at her.  He had seen her naked before, but never got to appreciate it.  It had been presented as dangerous and ugly, and this woman was anything but.  Not a great beauty, but her breasts were full and swaying, the hair between her legs the same chestnut brown as the waves about her shoulders, and her face was pretty and kind.  And she tolerated him.  He felt a spike of guilt from the other Theon, having bitten into Kara’s soft flesh and leaving her sobbing outside the gates of Winterfell.

      Jeyne took his rotted rags from the floor and tossed them into the hearth.  She grabbed his hand again, leading him towards the steaming pools.  She had prepared Theon saw- a washcloth, jar of soap.  A few empty oil viles were laying next to the edge, and he smelled mint and nettles.

       She pulled him after her into the pool, and as his feet started down the steps, he winced at the heat.  Theon decided it was a good pain.  Right away he could see the dirt clouding from his legs into the water.  Jeyne did not say anything, just pushed him gently to sit on one of the underwater edges, the water swirling above his shoulders now.  He exhaled.  She walked to the other side of the pool, sitting herself on the little ledge, allowing the water around her, inside of her, cleaning her.  Jeyne watched him exhaling, letting his head drop back. 

       Theon let the water take him…if he only had the courage, he would let himself slide down the side of the pool under the water and end it for himself.  He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him up.  He weighed himself down to sit on the ledge as she grabbed the washcloth and the soap, scrubbing gently at his shoulders and his back, then letting the water drip from the cloth onto his hair.  She stood half out of the water, Theon NOT unaware of her breasts at his eye level.  She did not seem to mind, probably didn’t see him as anything vaguely sexual, he thought.  Still her fingers spreading soap onto his scalp was as good as any sex he’d ever had in the other life.  She’d started to hum, a dainty feminine tune.  He closed his eyes, occasionally feeling her breast graze his cheek or shoulder as she washed every part of him.  He opened them, seeing her smiling face as she told him to go under the water, which he did, the hot water stinging his face deliciously as he felt it surge through his hair and lifting the now-dirty soap into its swirling depths. 

        She continued, cleaning his ears, his face, massaging his shoulders.  He still had broad shoulders, she noted to herself.  He will be well…hopefully better with some time and care.  She washed every part of him- the cloth soaped onto his torso, underneath his arms, even washing the scars of where his fingers had once been with the same care. 

       “Stand up” she requested.  He did, not as afraid as before now he knew he wasn’t a gelding.  Her eyes searched his form, but only with kindness.  She washed his nether regions, not surprised or put-off by his now-aroused state.  She washed it clinically, all the while continuing her humming.  Jeyne sat him on the ledge of the pool, massaging his legs and washing his feet.  She didn’t react to the fact that she was now standing in cloudy water, her pale skin being touched by his filth.  She simply walked out of the pool, before pulling him up by his hands. 

     He had been reborn- that was it.  The Gods had heard his pleas in that dungeon and granted him a new life.  Reek was dead in a marsh somewhere, and this Theon had been granted a heart in this lifetime. 

   Jeyne came back to him from the fireplace, wrapping a clean robe over him.  She took him over to the flames, setting him down on the furs to dry.  She was still humming and he turned to look at her swaying hips get into an adjacent, clean pool and soap and lather herself.  She smiled up at the ceiling, at the beautiful artwork carved into the ceiling.  Theon inhaled at her beauty, her hair floating about her, making her look like the mermaids all carved all around Pyke.  He smiled to himself, still careful not to show his teeth, even though he had “new” ones.  He ran his tongue along the wires, still not totally familiar with the devices the Gypsy had put in.  He did not care- he could chew meat again. 

       Her humming was louder and she came to sit next to him, on the furs.  He wrapped her in his robe, and she leaned against him as naked as her name day.  She seemed at peace then.  New Theon admired the resilience of women quite a bit.  Although he knew about her nightmares, as she would wake up screaming and he would jump up from the floor he chose for himself at her bedside, slipping into the covers with her and soothing her back to sleep.  She was as patient as a septa, knowing how he must’ve smelled.

      Jeyne laid her head against his now clean-shoulder, his robe and arm draped about her, pressing her close.  She inhaled the scent of him- HIS scent, masculine and clean, the smoky wood-burned smell of the fireplace, the slightly musty smell of the robe and furs.  She closed her eyes, letting the heat of the fire sear her dry.  They let the robe slip from their shoulders, their hair starting to dry.  She lay down then, and he lay down behind her, and she jumped a little- habit from being entered in every which way a man could enter a woman.  She relaxed then as he moved behind her, his arm about her.  Neither of them had a place in the world- vestiges of a world that didn’t exist anymore.  But no one had ordered them to leave, so Lady Sansa must still have a fondness for her childhood friend and her “pet”. 

      Theon was aware of his arousal, but he had suppressed that part of him for so long, discovering he still HAD a cock was pleasure in itself.  He never had looked.  He remembered when Ramsay had cut his abdomen and held up a bloody, pulpy mess.  Ramsay told him not to dare touch anything, or he would be punished even worse.  He could not imagine worse- and had never cried so much in his life.  Afterwards in his cell, he thought briefly of the girl on the boat whom he had impregnated.  At least one of me will go on- bastard or no. 

     Jeyne turned onto her back to look at him, and for the first time she saw the corners of his mouth turn in a small smile.

     “Thank you”, he said to her.  She nodded, touching his face, and looking into his blue eyes which seemed endless and huge.  He would always be wild.  Theon kissed her on the cheek, and layed down on her chest, his stubble rubbing against her bare breasts.  He grabbed her hands, entwining them with his own and she kissed him on the top of the head as they both stared into the roaring fire, his old clothes now ash.

     

  


	2. Always running.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whats a normal life anyway?

     It had been several days since he had let Jeyne bathe him- let the pain and filth of the last 2 years be whisked away, to be cleaned by the earth itself.  The clothes fit better, and when he didn’t think anyone was looking, Theon could not resist cupping between his legs, making sure he hadn’t experienced a cruel dream.  The first time he had pleasured himself, to no one in particular, it had been after a bath- he had started bathing himself.  It felt strange and alien to him- he ended up weeping after his climax, heaving sobs into his mangled hands.  He didn’t know if he felt better or weaker.  But he had felt…different after that.  Lighter.

      After that first bath, he had shaved his head, ignoring the white locks that fell to the ground, watching in satisfaction as the nits disappeared into the privy.  It was growing in stronger, fuller, and he dared to hope a bit of color.

   His days were filled with chores and running.  He had taken to running.  Running along the walls, across the parapets.  Running alongside the giant herd of horses they let out to graze.  He felt his chest fill up with cold Northern air and exhale.  He felt his calf muscles filling out.  When they let him have a weapon again, he took up his archery and even impressed some of the men being so spot on.  And at night, he served Lady Sansa as if they were strangers, never looking her in the face. 

      Every night for months Theon would crawl into Jeyne’s bed, no longer on her floor.  He would sometimes hug her to him, sometimes he would hold her as her hair spread out over his chest, staring at the ceiling and touching the silky tresses.  Sometimes he found himself shaking, her arms about him the only thing keeping him from vomiting or falling out of the bed to the comfort of the cold, hard floor.  He never touched her breasts, or between her legs, although the thought passed through his mind.  Sometimes his hands would glide over her smooth backside as he soothed her back to sleep and she did not seem to mind.  In fact she seemed to press into him at those moments.  He never touched himself when he was in her bed. 

      Jeyne remembered the night they both had laughed- an innocent, carefree and genuine laugh.  The first in years.  A fool had come to court, and after they were done serving, they were sitting at their own small table by the side.  The fool had been juggling, and as his routine went on, he grabbed more and more random objects from around the hall, never breaking rhythm.  He had his batons to start, then an ale horn, a plate, a dagger, and finally a chuck of cheese.  At the end of the routine, with split-second precision he took the dagger, dicing the cheese in half, it landing in two halves, one on Theon’s plate and the other on Jeyne’s.  They had laughed and clapped.  It felt good- to be amused.

    Jeyne glanced over at him, wide-mouthed and chuckling.  His hair was back down to his ears, not as thick or dark as it had been, but darker than white and slightly curling around the ends.  She tucked it behind one of his ears, his hand landing on hers underneath the tables before he closed his mouth, suddenly self-conscious.  His face reddened- a face that had grown thicker and more colorful.  His arms, still slender had regained a shape and muscle, although not what he had been.  She dressed as the other serving women- brown shift with a white apron and grey bodice.  Theon thought her the most beautiful of them- shining, forged through the fires of hell and back.  Of course he noticed there were others- one with yellow hair and large breasts who scowled at him.  He wasn’t sure if he had known her in another life, maybe bedded her.  It mattered little now.

       That night, warmed by laughter and wine, they held hands back to Jeyne’s room and it felt different.  Like they were two lovers, not just two orphans of an ugly war.  That night began as it usually did; Jeyne started undressing, hands going up to the back of her neck scarf, which was usually Theon’s cue to turn around.

        “Theon?” she asked, and he turned around to find her hands at the nape of her neck, tugging furiously.

       “I think some of my hair got knotted in here…I can’t get it untied.”

        He went to her, cursing his missing fingers.  Indeed some of her hair had been woven into the knot.

      “I think I am going to have to break it”, he said to her.  She nodded and he pulled, the hair finally snapping at the knot point.  The laces came apart then, revealing the smooth skin of her pale shoulders. 

       “Can you get the rest of them?”  she asked, a hint of something in her voice…was it flirtation?

        Jeyne smiled as he gathered her hair over one shoulder and her laces fell open easily under his clumsy hands, her scarred back bared to him.  The back of his hand traveled up her skin, soft as a whisper.  She felt his lips at her neck, his breath hot on her ear. 

       “Jeyne…” he whispered huskily.  His hands closed around her arms, and he inhaled deeply, the smells of her- fresh bread, wood fire and mint:  smells of the kitchen.  She closed her eyes and leaned back into him, feeling the warmth of his lips on her flesh go right down to her stomach, and lower to between her legs.  She had never known desire before- except watching Theon spar in the yard as a young lady and then at the tourney watching Ser Beric.  Of course those had been of a giddy girl- she was a woman now. 

       Jeyne turned to face him, bodice loose around her neck.  She tightened her hands into fists at his chest, a tear going down her face.  He wiped it away, looking down at her big brown eyes. 

       “I am sorry”, he said.

       “I am happy- I can still feel- desire…I’ve only been wounded between my legs.  And…” she looked at up at him- “love for someone.  Don’t ask me to explain that to you, because I cannot.” 

       “You love…me?” Theon asked incredulously.  She nodded solemnly.

       “I said don’t ask me to explain it.”  He backed off then, stunned out of his arousal. 

        “What?” Jeyne asked, her hands out towards him, her bodice slipping to her elbows, revealing her dark nipples, her full breasts.  She seemed not to notice, but surprised as Theon turned and left the room.  He didn’t know why.  He started running.

 


	3. Dream filled sleep.

    And he ran, on his route, passing by revelers coming back from the feast.  The best thing about being him is no one seemed to notice. 

    ‘What are you doing?’ he asked himself, out of breath but still continuing.  ‘Back there is a warm bed with a woman who loves you.  Who took care of you when you smelled like a sewer.’

     ‘She doesn’t REALLY want you’, came another voice.  Reek.  ‘She feels sorry for you…and for herself.’  Theon shook his head, trying to remind himself that he’s not a bag of bones anymore- he has muscle.  And endurance.  And hair!

  

       Jeyne didn’t know how to feel about whatever transpired.  She thought she could say anything to him, and it would be alright.  But she had spooked him.  She did smile at what HAD happened- something that moved her, that had excited her.  She had become accustomed to her numbness, functioning on indifference.  It fluttered still in her chest as she undressed the rest of the way, splashed water from the pitcher on her face and sank into her cool sheets.  She smiled her way into sleep.

     

       Theon wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone.  He saw the faintest bit of light starting in the distance- this far North in the spring the sun sets late and rises early.  He came into their room quietly, and his eyes set on the slumbering form of Jeyne on her side, her furs having slipped down to her waist, exposing her breasts to him.  He felt himself becoming hard and his fingers twitched slightly, wanting nothing more then to feel how her breasts felt and her nipples stiffen against his hands.

       Jeyne had heard him come in- when she heard a noise, she usually came out of her slumber, scared to what torture may have awaited her in the past.  She didn’t open her eyes, just rolled over onto his chest, resting her head on his rising and falling form.  She smiled to herself as she felt his arms go around her and a kiss on her head.

       “I love you”, she heard him mumble against her hair.  She didn’t answer just kissed his chest. And then again, until she found herself trailing kisses up to his neck, underneath his chin.  Theon’s chest rose and fell more rapidly now, and she could feel his heart start to beat furiously in his chest.  He felt his cock hardening, the ticklish feel of her lips and breath against his earlobe traveling like lightning down his body.  He smiled as he felt her legs go on either side of him, the moist apex between her legs pressing against him.  She straddled him, sitting on top of him.  Jeyne stroked his face, seeing the carefree man from her past in there at last.  The arrogance, however, had forever been taken from him. 

      Theon looked at her before him, like he had never seen her naked before.  But it was different- she was smiling.  His hands traveled up past her navel, softly brushing the undersides of her breasts.  He kept going, his eyes occasionally flickering up to her face, watching its expression as he circled her nipples, smiling to himself as he felt them harden.  Her eyes narrowed, never fully closing.  Her head swayed back and a small moan left her throat.  He moved slowly, sitting up and kissing her throat, as he positioned her back onto the bed and underneath him. 

      He kissed her fully on the lips, for the first time.  It started gently, although both of their chests were heaving with desire.  Jeyne’s lips opened slightly, her tongue tracing his lips until he opened his and their tongues slowly mingled.  She felt warmth fill her abdomen, excitement flood between her thighs.  She also felt that Theon was crying, a warm salty water on her face but she did not comment on it.  He positioned himself above her and gently stroked between her legs, relieved when her thighs fell lazily open and she was warm and wet.  He wanted to be with her properly- the way she should have been treated as a woman.  Amazing woman, capable of much compassion.  Compassion that the other Theon never had.

       He stopped at her entrance.

      “I do not wish to hurt you”, he said, questioning in his voice. 

      Jeyne smiled up at him, combing his hair with her fingertips. He could see her bottom lip tremble ever so slightly.  

      “You will not.”  With that he pushed slowly forward, sliding inside of her. 

      Jeyne felt him slide in, more tenderly and gently than before in her limited, awful experience.  It felt- good?  Right? Complete?  She wasn’t sure.  When he was all the way in, she kissed him again on the lips, wrapping her feet about his calves, welcoming him deeper. 

       Theon’s face had gone slack, and he smiled- probably looked like an idiot, but right now he did not care.  She was so warm around him, tight, welcoming.  A flood of emotions came over him, as well as memories from someone else- furious pounding, crying, laughing.  He shook those off and refocused on Jeyne, her relaxed face, her contented breathing.  He was afraid to move, but did anyways, gently back off of her and thrusting back in, his hips snapping against her.

       She pressed back against him, taking one of his hands and putting it between them, pushing down on the spot above where he was thrusting and she purred in approval.  He kissed her breasts, and she grabbed his butt with her hands, pulling him in deeper.  It was all slow, but good.  He languidly pushed against her, deeper each time, and he watched in fascination as she cried out, her mouth open and lovely, her neck bared to him.  She felt him touch something inside of her that made her- well, shiver was the closest thing she could compare it to.  All she knew is she wanted him to do it again, so her feet pulled him deeper and in faster, and he obliged. 

       “Theon” she breathed as he pumped into her, gathering her to him, kissing her neck.  He looked into her eyes, almost golden as she looked at him in rapture.  Again emotions overtook him, and his eyes glistened with tears as she completed him, giving him her body, sliding against him, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. When she said his name, he felt the last of his control slip away. He hugged her close, stiffening as his climax overtook him.  She kissed the sides of his face.  He shook with pleasure, her name half-wail, half-grunt coming out of his throat.  He lowered her to the bed, exhausted, their bodies slick with sweat.  He kissed her on the lips, goose bumps on his arms and tingling surging through his whole body.  He laid his head onto her breast.

       “I’m sorry”, he said without looking at her face.  Jeyne smoothed his hair back.

      “For what?”  she asked.

       “You didn’t, I mean I couldn’t last...”.  She smiled. 

       “It’s alright, you’ll have other chances.”

        Theon looked up at her mischievous face and kissed her breast, burying his face in her skin and drifting off into a deep sleep.

 

 

                                                   


	4. Okay then.

      That night was filled with dreams.  It was one of the deepest sleeps Theon had allowed himself since being released from Harrenhal.  He was 13 again, and going with some of the household guard to the Brothel.  He remembered the smirk on his face as he picked a black-haired girl of 20, pretty enough, to usher him into manhood.  Of course, at that age, the trip was short, the girl patient but indifferent.  The dream shifted and he was back with Jeyne wrapped up as one of Able’s wenches, crying as blood spurted from a man’s neck onto the pure snow.  He looked up into the face of the storm, the giant flakes turned into screeching owls, whipping by him, getting smaller and smaller as they flew away.  He turned back to Jeyne, and had turned into Kara, then into the Captain’s daughter, then into the black-haired whore, then Asha.  She smiled, whipping back her hood and jumped off of the wall, into a dark pit, into oblivion.

 

“NO!” he cried, sitting straight up in his bed, his arm outstretched uselessly towards the lightening window.  He felt Jeyne’s arms wrap about him, soothing him in whispers, pulling him down against her.  His panicky breathing slowed, and he rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes.  After a long time, he looked up at her- a mess of sleep.  Her hair was wild about her, her face brightened by the sun streaming in through the window.  He smiled at her, his heartbeat finally slowing to normal.  He got out of bed, crossing to the pitcher and pouring himself some water.  He turned back to look at her, and she was almost childishly biting her lip as she looked his naked form up and down.  Theon was bemused by her holding up the furs about her in a modest fashion. 

 

“I want you to become my wife”, he told her, taking another long swallow from his horn.  Jeyne’s face grew serious and she looked down at her hands holding onto the furs and sheets.

Her eyes were still serious when they met his,

“Why?” 

Theon didn’t answer right away.  He didn’t know what to say.  Why indeed?

He went back to the bed, sitting on it and taking her hands in his.

“Because I don’t want to be without you…ever.  I love you, I love you the way I never thought I could love anyone else.  You said you loved me.  The Gods brought you back into my life for a reason.”

Jeyne reddened, her eyes darting to the side.

“I am no Septa.  I am just a girl who had lost everything”, she replied, looking at their entwined hands. 

“Septa?  No.  I never looked a Septa the way I look at you.”  Now it was his turn to redden. 

“Okay then.”   Jeyne replied, leaning forward and kissing him on the lips.  He exhaled joyfully, almost feeling like a kid again, kissing her with joy and laughter.

 


	5. Just a Taste

     The household staff, those who could get away, gathered around Theon at the heart tree.  The new Steward agreed to give her away, and the two walked up to the modest gathering.  Jeyne smiled, trying to push away the memories of fear that plagued her at her first wedding.  The cook’s little girl had crafted a wreath for the hair of the Bride, garland strewn with summer flowers, shafts of golden wheat, some crimson heart flowers. 

     He cleared his throat, seeing the white linen dress she made for herself.  Her hips swayed underneath.  Jeyne took his arm, staring into his eyes as they kneeled and said their vows.  His face had filled out, but would always carry a sallow look of premature age about it.  He had even grown what some could consider handsome again, if they didn’t see his mismatched teeth.  His hair had turned brown again, although it remained thin and silvered at the temples.  Jeyne cared not.  In her heart, he was the man who whisked her away from a man who violated her with the tip of his boot, and then invited some of his guards from the door in to watch. 

      Theon repeated the words, unable to tear his gaze away from her haunting brown eyes.  She had small wrinkles about her eyes, much too young for such a thing.  But he liked the way they looked as she smiled shyly, squeezing his hands.  He wrapped his cloak around her, another thing she had sewed herself.  A crude yellow kraken adorned the back, and he laced it about her, allowing himself a small smile.  He kissed her on the lips, and the rabble applauded with mild enthusiasm.  The cook’s little girl squealed as they broke apart, coming to their feet.  The procession headed back into the keep, presumably back to their duties. 

     Jeyne held Theon’s hand, and when they reached her room, he did his best to scoop her up and carry her the rest of the way into the room.

 

“Love you’re going to hurt yourself!”, she objected, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.  He just shook his head at her, giving her a rye look.  He did however half-drop, half-set her to the ground 3 steps in.  He would never be strong again.  She kissed him on the lips anyways, grabbing on to his shoulders to steady herself.  She walked to the small stone dresser and set down the few flowers she had cared in a bundle during the ceremony.  Theon walked up behind her, pressing against her, his fingers lightly following her arms down to her hands.  She laughed- the laugh a girl of 16 should have on a good day.  He breathed in the scent of her hair, and wound his arms about her, pulling her on top of him as he fell onto the bed. 

     Suddenly, she fell away from him, her breathing having slowed.  His brow furrowed.

     “My love, I am sorry…have I hurt you?” 

      She was on her side facing away from him, having curled in on herself.  He heard her sniff back some tears.

     “I am haunted by memory.  It is…always with me. Not a song I can cease singing, a book I can set down.  And, you have seen me, but I am ugly underneath this dress.  His- his marks are on me.  In me.  On my thighs, on my breasts.”  She turned onto her back, still not meeting his gaze.  Her crying increased, and she sat up on the edge of the bed.

     “None of it is how it was supposed to be…I was supposed to be free in front of my husband, laughing, eager.  Not afraid to show myself.”

     Theon did not know how to respond.  He cleared his throat and sat up next to her.  He put his hand over hers.

    “Jeyne- look at my hand.”  Her red, puffy eyes moved down to look at the three fingers resting on her warm hand.  She sobbed a little more at it.  He got up, and removed his cloak, doublet and undershirt.  He stoked the fire and Jeyne admired how he forced himself not to stoop, not to hunch his shoulders down as he had for years- striving to go unnoticed.  He stripped the rest of the way, naked and pacing the small room. 

     “Before- before- when I was younger, before Harrenhal, you had a good idea of who I was, what I’d done- WHO I’d done,” he started, still trying to sound eloquent in spite of a small lisp from his teeth.  “My life was a song- so I thought. I thought my life was a ballad, or was going to be one.  A Lord’s son, unafraid of battle, unafraid of women.  This-“, he continued, gesturing at the innumerable scars all over himself, “is nothing.  A Lord’s son”, he scoffed, “can be burned, cut and kept in captivity as well as any other man.  I was Reek- the same as the Reek I brought to Winterfell, the same as whatever poor sod had that name before me.  A ballad, yes.  Of a man who took his pleasures where he could, and if he fell in battle, it would be better than returning home failed.  That I could tell the silly fool I was- be loyal to Robb.  Protect your home.  Do not try to prove something by taking it from two small boys who looked at you as brothers.  I still don’t know how to feel about it- some days I wake up, wishing that Ramsay had run me through as I lay on the grounds outside.  That I had let Ser Rodrick kill me, as he should have when I presented Beth to him on the parapets.  That my ship to Pyke had gone down in a storm, that my body be presented back to the Drowned God, that the Captain’s daughter gone with me, that the crew made it to shore.  But those things didn’t happen.  When I look at you, I don’t see your scars.  Your scars are not your shame- they are Ramsay’s…they are mine.”

         Jeyne shook her head, dazed by this sudden confession of her new husbands.  It is the most she had heard him say…ever.

       “Yes they are” he said sternly to her.  “But for whatever reason, the Gods did not have me die of blood poisoning or fever.  They spared me…I think for you.  To work up enough courage- to stop being such a craven, to help you that one night.” He laughed.  “So many have died, but I remain alive, such as it is.  I think they have forgotten about me!"  He couldn’t help but chuckle through his glistening eyes.  It turned into a full throated laugh, broken occasionally by sorrow.

     He walked back over to her,   grabbing her hands. 

     ”That night when you told me you loved me- it was beyond my understanding.  Look at me- I am hideous.  I am skinny and weak and scarred.  These are reminders of everything that came before- every girl I lied to and bedded, every cruelty, even the two small boys I let Ramsay chase through fields of wheat, run them down like frightened deer.”  His eyes glistened at the memory. 

     “Those marks may be on your body, but your soul…is beautiful.”  His hands went about her face, cupping it.

     “Beautiful”, he repeated sharply to her.  She leaned into his palm exhaling, putting her hand over his.  He wiped the tears away from her face, kissing her fully on the lips.  She took off her wreath and stood up before him.  She let it drop onto the floor, the white material of the dress next crinkling around her feet.  He sat further back on the bed, propped on his elbows, chest heaving.  His eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth curled into the joyful expression of a man seeing a woman undress.  In some ways he had become more typical of a man his age. 

     She was totally naked in front of him now, the firelight casting a bronze hue over her curvy form.  For the first time he noticed the small pits on her thighs, the obvious scars from gouging fingernails.  Her fists tensed and relaxed on either side of her, fighting the urge to cover herself.  Theon’s eyes roved over her form and she saw he was hardening.  He sat forward.

    “Come to me, wife.”  Jeyne moved forward, his eyes on level with her collarbone.  He moved his head forward and placed a light kiss on the hollow of her throat.  He looked up and met her eyes.

    “I have never seen anything more…captivating.”  She smiled down at him, warmth filling her belly as she bent her head, capturing his lips with her own.  She exhaled, pushing him back onto the bed, draping herself over him.  His arms went around her.  He moved her onto her back, leaning back onto his heels and pulling her legs the rest of the way onto the bed.  He kissed her lips again, their tongues mingling, the soft flesh absorbing the warmth of the other.  He drew back, studying her face.  His thumb grazed over her lips.  Kissing them lightly, he drew her long hair from around her exposing her throat to him again.  A ligature mark went around her neck, where someone had tried to tie off her oxygen.  She watched him looking at it, before he moved in and kissed it across its width.  She exhaled, letting her eyes flutter closed as she let her new husband look wherever he wanted on her.  Sansa didn’t get her song either- maybe no one did. 

      “These are butterfly wings”, he exhaled onto her as he moved down, lightly kissing the dark scars between her breasts, nuzzling the hardened tips with the side of his face.  He traced the marks there as well with his fingers, lightly circling the nipples.  He moved down her body, swirling his tongue inside of her navel, massaging her hips with his hands.  Jeyne was staring at the ceiling, for once unafraid of what was to come.  Her body was starting to hum, and she could hear herself making small gasping noises in her throat.  She felt him smile against her and he placed one more kiss above her mound before gently pushing her knees apart exposing her to him. 

      She could feel the cooler air hit the wetness that had come between her thighs and Theon ran his hands gently up from her knees to her inner thighs, making her jump suddenly.

     “Shhh, it is alright.  I will not hurt you.”  Jeyne looked down at him and saw him studying the claw marks on her otherwise pale skin.  She reddened and then exhaled as he leaned over and kissed them, touching them gently with his fingers.  He met her eyes, and she could see his fear, his insecurity.  She reached down and touched his hand, and then he broke his gaze away to look at her between the legs.  Her chestnut hair was slightly curly but a bit wiry.  He licked his lips, leaning in and kissing her, causing her to gasp suddenly.  He moved his tongue to the front of her slit, not touching it but applying pressure which caused delicious sensations of pleasure to start in her.  He soon started sucking, and swirling his tongue, finally letting his thumb take over on her clit and then put his tongue inside of her, tasting her.  Jeyne wailed in spite of herself, loving the feeling of his soft warm tongue teasing her.  She could feel herself on the rise and felt his other hand reach around her, raising her hips up to him.  Her feet went onto his back, her hands gently pulling his hair.  With a final plunge of his tongue, she felt herself spasm, her whole body tightening with pleasure before relaxing, her back easing back onto the bed, wrung out.  She breathed heavily, and he rested his head on her belly.

     “So that’s what its supposed to be like…?”, she asked once she regained speech.

   Theon smiled at her. 

    “Just a taste-“, he replied, crawling up to kiss her.  Indeed she could taste herself on him. 

    “You are so wild my wife.  You taste like the sea and honey.”  Jeyne blushed, feeling him hard against her.

    “Can I have a taste now?” she asked him, moving him to his back.  He seemed taken aback for a second, before she moved down his torso, teasing his remaining nipple, applying pressure to the pad of scar tissue remaining of the other.  She moved down to where his cock jutted towards his belly, hard and long.  She rubbed her cheek against it, finding it smooth and dry.  She touched her lips to the tip, making him jump slightly.  She tasted a bit of the liquid that came out of the tip, whisking it away with her tongue.  She grasped it at the base, at first wondering in the world to do with it.  She decided to follow what he done- she kissed it.  She moved her lips down around its head, hearing him suck in a hard breath.  She looked up at him staring at the ceiling, then met her gaze.  She smiled up at him and he shook his head in disbelief.  She continued, swirling her tongue around the bulbous tip and bringing it as much as she could into her mouth without gagging on it.  His hips were making tiny thrusts, her head going up and down, tongue swirling around its width. 

     Theon made a loud groan and stilled his movements, stopping her, pulling her up and putting her legs on either side of him.  His warm hands went about her hips, his face into her breasts.  She sank down on top of his length, still ticklish and humming from his mouth on her.  She gasped as he filled her, their warm, wet flesh touching.  He leaned her back against his knees, and she felt him touch that “button” inside of her that pulsed through her whole body.  She withdrew again, sinking back down on him, each time he hit that spot a little harder.  He calmed himself down a bit, wanting top make sure she peaked this time.  She was so slick around him, it was going to be difficult.  She was soon grinding against him, riding him wildly.  He pressed his palm between them, touching her at the front of her slit.  She moaned loudly.

     “Oh Theon… Theon!” she answered grinding against his palm, and with that she pumped a few last times, her mouth agape as she ground him into that place, his firm pressure on her taking her over the edge, and she screamed loudly as she took her pleasure.  She felt his warmth fill her, he leaned forward to kiss her breasts, suckling each nipple as he stiffened against her.  She couldn’t speak- the rush of emotion that overtook her was like a huge wave and she began to cry, happy and overwhelmed at the same time.   She slumped against him, they both hit the pillows roughly, her legs were still splayed on either side of him, her head on his chest, his fingers gently combing through her hair.  They fell into an exhausted sleep- sweaty, his flesh still a part of hers.  They jumped awake at the loud, sudden pounding on the thick wood door.

  

     

 


	6. Honeymoon

      They started awake- their stomachs full of momentary panic.  They exchanged confused looks and unwound their limbs.  Theon swung his legs to the side of the bed, put a reassuring hand onto Jeyne’s warm thigh and grabbed the dagger from the cabinet and made his way to the door.

‘Bran has made a decision about me.  It would be what I deserved.  But not Jeyne’, he thought to himself.

“Not Jeyne”, he mumbled out-loud between clenched teeth.  He reached the door.

“GREYJOY!” an impatient voice cried out from the other side.  Theon inhaled sharply and cracked the door open.  One of the household guards met his eyes, the scornful look of an obviously bothered man. 

“Been a raven for ya.”  That was the extent of the response.  Theon nodded, shutting the door on the man.  He scrambled to the floor, retrieving his britches and doublet.  And the cloak Jeyne had worn- why in seven hells not?  He glanced over at the bed.  Jeyne was sitting up, her hands hugging the furs to her and she was almost visibly shaking.

“Where are you going?”  she asked, her voice trembling.  Her eyes filled with moisture, almost coming to tears.

“There’s been a raven for me.  Do not fear.”  He kissed her on the forehead and started towards the door.

“Theon!”, she called after him.  He turned around to look at her.

“Take the dagger.”

 

 _____

     Jeyne paced in front of the dying fire, throwing more logs on it and stoking it, letting it heat the room.  Summer was only starting to die away, but the chilly autumn was creeping in around them.  She sat on the small wooden chair in front of it, hugging the furs to her naked form.  After Theon had left, she didn’t want to bare herself to the possibility he might not come back.  Its warmth was the only thing keeping her from jumping out of her skin.  She shivered with anxiety. 

      She remembered being huddled next to Sansa in the tower of the Red Keep, ushered back to her quarters before men came to take her father away.  That was the last time she had seen him. 

      It seemed that many hours went by, but the sun was still high in the sky when she heard the ratting of the door being opened.  It opened, and she held her breath, only exhaling when she saw his face appear around it, closing it quietly behind him. 

     “Ah!” she cried, leaping out of the furs towards him forgetting her nudity, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him close.  He squeezed her back, and she heard him give a little laugh.

      “My lovely wife, careful- a man could get used to this sort of greeting.”  She laughed briskly, holding him closer before stepping back.  He held her hands for a moment, his face masking his busy thoughts.

      She sat down on the bed, pulling a brown shift over herself.  He helped himself to a horn of grog, sitting down in the wooden chair in front of the fire. 

      “Well?”  she asked after a long moment.

      He looked over at her. 

       “We leave for Pyke tomorrow morning.  For the seat of House Greyjoy.”


	7. Moving On

 “What do you mean we ride for Pyke?”  Jeyne asked incredulously.

Theon took another long sip from his horn, setting it carefully down on the floor.  She could see his hand trembling.  Brave he might be acting, but something in him will remain hollowed and afraid.  In their experience, being summoned in front of a Lord that wishes you ill has never been a good experience. 

“We ride to Seagard and get a ship to Pyke. After my uncles more or less killed each other, my sister stepped into the void there, with her…husband.  She has however since made a spectacle out of herself, including bearing a son that is _not_ her Lord’s.”

Jeyne’s mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“What do you mean?  How could they know?”   

Theon gave her a look. 

“Even an old, dim man can still count months.”  Jeyne nodded, suddenly and sickeningly remembering the gush of blood that flowed from her a month after her rescue.  There had been no Maester with Stannis, but there were spear wives.  They told her the winter had claimed the babe for its own, and that it was never meant to live.  She never knew how to feel about it- it was Ramsay’s- created in agony, in horror.  But it was hers as well.  It didn’t matter- her body couldn’t bear his cruelty and the lack of food in the camp.  It had been beyond her either way. 

“She has run off with someone from her household guard.  Now there is no one…except me.”

    With the last statement, his voice tensed and she saw him look down at his hands, still shaking.  He got up, removing his cloak and filled the horn again, getting another ad handing it to her, sitting on the bed, leaning onto wall.  She came up and sat cross legged in front of him.  His eyes were pale, looking mournfully out the window.  He chewed his lips, deep in thought.  He met her gaze.

“Lord Bran…wants you?”  It was not so much a question as it was a confused statement. 

He nodded, a little sadly. 

“Manderly’s son.  Wylis.  He has made a good case for me- even offered me one of his daughters.  He did not know I was married.  No doubt I would make a good ally.  No one could possibly be more indebted than I to whoever puts me in Pyke.  I would be even more of a shell.”

Jeyne grabbed his hands and he gently squeezed back, draining the ale completely and looking again out of the window.   He rubbed his eyes and lay onto his side, bringing the cool pillow to his face.   He shook as she had before. She finished her horn as well, letting it roll onto the floor. She lay next to him, looking into his distant face.

“I think you will make a fine lord.”  He laughed a little.

“I…we, do not have much of a choice either way.  In my life, I never would’ve thought I would have preferred staying in Winterfell as a servant over going home and being a Lord.  I am no Lord. I am a ghost.  I haunt Harrenhal with the rest of them.”

   “You are kingly to me, my love.”  She kissed his hands.  Leaning in and kissing his lips, which responded lightly, before he inhaled deeply and brought his hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer.  He roughly kissed her, his tongue finding its way inside of her mouth, tracing her teeth.  Jeyne lay back, and he moved over her, pulling up the brown shift over her hips, baring her to him.  She laughed with nervous giddy as his hands went up her thighs, lightly tugging at the hair between her legs and pressing against her mound.  He remained back, watching her flushed face.  She grabbed him through his britches, rubbing rhythmically against him.  He growled a little at her, roughly unlacing the doublet and she ran her hands on the inside of it, feeling his lean frame underneath her hands, pushing it over his shoulders.  He made similar quick work of the britches, returning to her.  He pushed the shift up even more, over her breasts, her nipples dark and hard.

His mouth went to them, sucking, lightly biting.  He pulled away from her wet skin, blowing on it as she moaned loudly.  His knee went up between her legs and she pushed herself against it. 

Theon cupped her face in his hands.

“Why is it I can be brave- with you?”  Jeyne shrugged in response. 

“Maybe we bring out the best in each other.” 

     Jeyne’s hands snuck down his body, grasping his cock and teasing the head with her thumb.  He exhaled raggedly, pushing himself into her palm.  She kissed him once again, and he pushed into her, covering her with his body.  She reached around his broad shoulders, her nails digging into his soft flesh.  She brought her legs around his waist, excitedly holding on as he passionately moved her hips up and down, the mattress moving slightly off the frame with each thrust.  He moved her face to his, kissing her roughly as she cried out, grinding herself against him.  He sucked on her earlobe and she pulled on his hair.  He ground himself against her soft insides, as deep as he could go and then he hit the right spot inside her and she felt lightning take her body over, holding him close.  She felt warmth over his abdomen and her thighs and he gave one final deep thrust, a cry coming from his throat as he filled her.  He slumped onto her, kissing her shoulder lightly. 

       Their breath soon returned to normal, and the back of her fingers lightly combed his hair. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want one of the Manderly girls?  I am not high-born. Who knows- you could have White Harbor some day.”  Jeyne asked half seriously.  Theon let out a sigh.

“I have a wife.  A fine wife.  A passionate wife”, he said, giving her nipple a quick pinch. Theon moved onto his stomach, looking her in the face. 

“A wife I love and one that knows my true face- faces, I should say.  Warts and all. Like I said, I was never anything lordly.”

Jeyne smiled back at him, kissing his lips.

“Besides”, he continued jokingly, “I keep thinking of them as Lord Manderly in wigs.”  With that she let out a huge laugh. 


	8. A Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne and Theon take to the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dont nit-pick. Dont be THAT guy.

 

     Theon planted his feet underneath the wooden bunk and crossed his arms behind his head; he pulled his elbows up to his knees, feeling the familiar strain through his abdomen.  It’s something he had done for months, starting back in Winterfell.  The small cabin hardly allowed for more movement, but he had improvised.  It was a strain, and after 30 of them he moved to his stomach, pushing himself up on his arms and slowly back down the floor. This had been impossible at first, throwing his shoulder out of its socket once and trying in vain to balance on his mutilated hands.  But he had gotten better, stronger.  He had decided not to go back home looking as a weakling.  Politically, a weakling he may be, but he could not fathom remaining a skinny wraith in front of the Ironmen.  After what seemed endless repetitions of the exercise, he lightly collapsed, his arms shaking. 

     He made his way up to the deck, finding Jeyne staring out over the water, the surface completely calm.  The surface was of glass, the stirring against the boat the only hint that it was fluid.  The crew sat idly around, occasionally adjusting a sail, but moreover enjoying a rare moment of serene weather.  Theon knew as they did- that often this calm sea was a precursor for a squall.  He put his hand over his wives, and a smile touched her lips but she did not tear her eyes away from the water.

     “I used to dream of the sea.  I had never seen it, but somehow I knew what it looked like.  Never resting, always changing.”

     “You a natural, my very own salt wife”, he said, his arms snaking around her. 

     “Salt wife huh?  How many of them wear your kraken?”  Jeyne asked jokingly.

     “None but you my love.”   He whispered, placing a small kiss on the back of her neck, before clearing his throat and straightening up, trying not to seem too tender in front of the men.  Theon puffed out his chest and headed towards the small kitchen, grabbing grog, stale bread and cheese.  The cook eyed him suspiciously, biting down on a smoking rolled piece of paper, the small bits of ash from the end landing on his protruding belly.

     ‘I can’t even garner respect on one ship.’ 

_____

 

     Theon was quite proud of himself- he had managed not to vomit.  Not to vomit in his cabin, or haul himself up on deck to stretch his neck over the side and wretch.  The pride faded though into concern for Jeyne, who began vomiting as the serenity of the weather indeed gave way to giant waves, thick sea spray and mist.  The trip was not a terribly lengthy one from Seagard to Pyke, but was a notorious triangle of warm streams from the South, cold from the North and deep ocean currents from the West.  Whirlpools disappeared and appeared, sometimes swallowing entire ships- and crews- in a matter of minutes. 

    He had cleaned up their cabin as best he could, which became a filthy mess of vomit, spilled ale and dead roaches, drowned in the various spills.  Jeyne had finally gotten used to the tossing and turning of the floor beneath them, and finally emerged, braving the waves to gulp down fresh air.  He held her arm gingerly, relieved when her color turned from a sallow green to a cool, pale flush.  She smiled weakly at him, burying her face in his throat and he stroked her hair as she took deep breaths. 

     “That’s better”, she said weakly. 

      “M’Lord!  Take your Lady down below!” the First Mate called to him and Theon followed the man’s outstretched hand.  He bit back a scream as he saw a black sky forming over 50 foot waves. 

_____

     The next day passed oddly.  They didn’t leave their cabin, eating on three muffins and grog left from supper.  Jeyne sprained her wrist, having been knocked off of her feet by a hitting wave.  Mainly they stayed huddled together on their bunk, not bothered by the smells of the damp ship. 

“I have to go up there”, Theon said to her seriously as darkness passed over the ship again. 

 Jeyne stared at him, her brown eyes wide with fear.

“What?  Why?”

“Because I am supposed to be their Lord.  Not very Iron of me to remain shut in my cabin like a craven.  Greyjoy’s are not supposed to fear the sea, fear the Drowned God.”  He got up, grabbing a dagger and securing his bow and long sword underneath their bunk.  Jeyne grabbed his arm.  He stilled.

“Jeyne.  Do not stop me…please.  I have to remember being a Lord’s son.  It was another life, like a dream.  But it’s what people expect now.  Lock the door behind me.”  She let go of his arm, kissing his fingers.  He ran a hand down the side of her face before quickly leaving the bunk and she crossed, only wearing a white under-shift and slid the bolt into place.  She lurched forward as another wave crashed against the hull, and re-injured her sprained wrist.  She remained on the dirty floor, kneeling, tears streaming down her face. 

“Gods, of the old and the new- of the Heart tree of my mother and father and homeland, and the Drowned God, a stranger to me but the God of my husband.  Forgive me for my silence.  Forgive me for my doubt.  In my suffering I Move your eyes onto me with kindness and help, onto Theon.  Give him strength to do what he must.  To survive this squall, to be the Lord he was supposed to be.  I promise the cruelty has been beaten out of him.  The arrogance cut away.  Please let me be strong with him.”  She continued the mantras in her head, finally settling under the damp blankets and trying to ignore the sound of the crashing water, the lurches of the deck and the muffled screams of the crew above.  Her lips spoke the words silently, until all was black and she rested.


	9. Iron In 'Im

 

“You should’ve seen him m’Lady!”, the cooks wife said to Jeyne, who was sitting in the kitchen sipping hot tea and watching the plump older woman bend over the stove, shoveling in dough to bake.  The woman was pleasant enough, had a ruddy-weathered face one would get being on a ship for twenty years and enduring an almost constant spray of salt water.

“Your Lord, quite smartly, tied himself to the main cabin.  Gods know why others do not- they gamble.  If the ship went down, they’d be tied to it!  But you’ll go down floating there as well, like a stone in those waves.”  She shook her head and a cold feeling spread through Jeyne, thinking of Theon being pulled under by the sinking vessel.

“He got right in there, and when a Lord is drenched by the God, you cant tell ‘im from anyone else M’Lady.  He was securing the sails when a plank broke underneath him, his boot getting caught.  He wrenched it out just in time- a huge wall of water washed over them all…”  her face saddened. 

“Took 3 of them…one was tied but was battered against the side.  Another was lost to the sea…and the third, m’Lady, the cabin boy Fitz, held clinging to the rail, his screams were lost to the storm.  He was pulled back- a mere man would snap in half if he strength enough to hold on. But- “and she looked up, flushing at Jeyne, “you’re husband dived after ‘im.  Cesar says he never saw nothing like it.  He dove like an eagle, skimming across the broken planks and over the side.  The men didn’t know what to make of it, so they continued what they were doing- none of them could even make it over to the side, let alone try to help.  All that was left was that rope dangling with weight.  They figured they either got pulled under, or smashed against the side.”

     The woman went back to the oven, peering through the small grate and nodded in satisfaction.  She pulled down a basket of onions and started peeling the skin off of one and continued the story.

     “After an hour, when the roaring had died to a growl, they looked over the side.  The Drowned God was kind, m’Lady!  The men pulled the rope up, and thought them a couple of corpses.  They hit the deck, and almost had to cut your Lord’s hands away from the young man there was such a grip.  Cesar said he almost had a heart attack when they opened their eyes, coughing and heaving up water- he’d never seen such a sight!  Mainly you see dead men m’Lady- not one coming back!  And not two at once!  He told me his Lord must’ve been iron after all- just got a bit rusty in the North.”  She shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.  Jeyne grabbed another onion and a paring knife and began to peel.  A slow smile spread on her lips. 

  ___

 

     Jeyne sat in the hammock of their cabin, a regular and minimal sway under her feet. She looked over at the sleeping form of her husband, studying his face. His brow wrinkled as if he was deeply concentrating, his mouth slightly open.  After the storm he came in and kissed her passionately, stripping and collapsing into a deep sleep.  She was just happy he had survived the deck. 

     She took off her shift, then her smallclothes and slipped in beside him, and he rolled to her, bringing his chest against her back, holding her close.  A small sigh of satisfaction came from him and she closed her eyes, not sleeping, just resting.  He smelled of the sea, of brine and himself.  Sometime later she heard him stir, exhaling and removing his arm so he could wipe at his face with his hands.  She ground her backside against him and he returned his arm around her, pulling her close once again. 

      His fingers traced small circles onto her belly, before cupping a breast in his palm and kneading the nipple gently.  She exhaled and smiled, wiggling against his hard length.  Theon switched to other breast, kissing between her shoulder and her neck, causing her to giggle.  His hand traveled lower, playing with the damp hair between her legs, alternating fingers on each lip, causing wonderful sensations to course through her.  Jeyne reached back, grabbing his buttocks and pulling him close.  He pulled down the sheets, revealing the curve of her hip and her legs slightly open, an ankle snaking around one of his legs.  He traced her ear with his tongue and slowly entered her.  Her legs squeezed her nub of pleasure and she felt herself grow tight around him, throbbing.

    She gasped and arched her torso forward, his hands massaging her back, grabbing onto her hips and working her against him.  She never felt him so…acutely before.  Every part of her seemed to be aware of him as a man as he thrust deep within her.  She closed her eyes, wantonly moaning.  Flashes of silver and gold started underneath her lids, strange buildings and strange shapes in flickers.  She tightened her internal muscles around him and heard him growl in answer.

    “Theon…my lord…oh, oh OH!” she gasped in response.  He increased his pace and she squeezed, again reaching back and touching his lean chest, his bare hip. 

    “Ahhhh my love”, he said through clenched teeth and thrust deep, touching her between the legs as well and she spasmed, her whole body taken over by ripples of pleasure.  He waited her out, and after a few more thrusts her contractions around him brought about his orgasm and he stilled in it, barely able to hold onto her hips. They stay still for several moments, and Theon kissed her back, licking the light layer of sweat from his lips. He slipped out of her and she turned towards him and he hugged her to him protectively.  His leg went about her and she cuddled up against the hairs on his chest. 

     The scent of sex was heavy over them, but she did not mind.  This is how it was supposed to be with her husband- fiery and passionate, but loving all at once.  She was not supposed to feel dirty and ashamed. She was not supposed to be scared of ever changing moods & the smile Ramsay had on his face whenever she was in pain.  Jeyne let those thoughts go as he held her against him and she looked up at his face.

     Theon had a look of utter contentment at the moment.  She dared think he looked his age for once.  He exhaled and kissed her forehead, bringing the sheets and furs back over them.  Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

     “From what I hear…I am bedding a hero.”  His eyes snapped open and looked down at her.  A curious smile played on his lips.

     “What do you mean?” he asked back.  Jeyne smiled at him, running her fingers over his stubble.  She shrugged a shoulder, and leaned over the side of the bed bringing a lemon cake into view.

     “Fitz brought this to you.  A thanks for saving his life.”  Theon eyed it suspiciously,

     “Fitz?  That was the boys’ name.”  He answered his own question, looking down at his hands. 

    “I didn’t plan it Jeyne.  I just- reacted.  I saw the terror in his face.  I know that look of helplessness.”  She didn’t say anything, just held the tart to his lips and he took a bite.  She took a bite from the other end.

    “So I AM bedding a hero- I knew you were my hero, but now- the whole ship thinks of you as one.” she replied a little wickedly, licking the lemon filling from her lips. “Do they look any different I wonder?” she pulled up the sheets and looked at his form, getting healthier every day.  He felt himself stir again and laughed, pulling the blankets over their heads. 

     Theon took a mockingly savage bite of the lemon cake and it was Jeyne’s turn to laugh.

     “That’s for you to find out My Lady!”

    


	10. Ladies Greyjoy

Alannys Greyjoy opened her eyes, rimmed in red and her parched lips opened.

“Theon- my baby boy, where is he? Where is my baby-boy?” 

     He felt a pang go through him.  All the years he spent at Winterfell brooding, he thought only of himself.  His mother was not a Greyjoy by birth- she had been the heart and hearth of the family.  Theon grabbed her hand and her pale eyes, matching his own, slowly turned to look at him. 

“I am here mother.  It is Theon.” 

      A smile spread across her lips, and for a moment she became the smiling, golden haired mother of his memory.  She squeezed his hand, her warmth spreading into him.  He gave her a close-mouthed smile. 

“Theon!  Where have you been?  You’ve grown so handsome!” she combed his hair back with her fingers and he lifted them to his mouth, kissing them softly.

“It matters not mother, I am here now.” 

She smiled at him, proceeding to rock back and forth in her chair in front of the fire, finally contented.  She looked back at him.

“We must find you a wife dear boy!  Your father thinks you too young.”

“Mother I have a wife, a fine wife.”

    His mother absently nodded again. 

    “I hope she gives you many sons.”

     Theon sat back not responding, just giving her a withering smile.  If he was honest, he hadn’t thought about it.  He would love it, to have children with Jeyne’s golden eyes and his smile.  He didn’t know if she was capable after what had happened in Stannis’ camp.  They never spoke of it.

  ____

 

     He left his mother soon after, as she drifted off into a light sleep.  He covered her with a robe and gave her a kiss on her forehead, leaving her.  Perhaps next time he will bring Jeyne along.  The guard outside her room gave him a curt nod- what he had done on the boat had reached the ears of Pyke.  He was confident he had at least a little admiration to build on. 

     Theon headed down the hall, feeling mildly more comfortable with the weight of the kraken cloak on his back.  He forced himself to straighten up, a confident posture something which had not returned to him fully yet.  It was a conscious effort.  The guards to his chambers bowed slightly to him and he nodded at them, entering into his own sanctuary and removing the cloak at once.

     Jeyne was sitting by the window, sucking on the end of a finger she had pricked with the embroidery needle.  In front of her was a large tapestry loom, and a small scene had started to take shape in the weeks she had planned it and started her work.  She had been a fairly good embroiderer, and it took a lot of pressure and anxiety off of her when she was alone during the day. 

   “Ugh”, Theon breathed out in a rush of air, jumping onto the feather mattress that used to belong to his parents.

    “Hello my lover”, Jeyne said aloud, resuming her work.  Theon turned onto his back, looking at the ceiling.  He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow.  She looked gorgeous and the fine gowns made for her hugged her form.  The one she had on was the color of the sea, a blue-green that complimented her chestnut hair.  She smiled at him.

    “How is your mother?” 

    Theon gave a little smile.

     “I think she would like to meet you”, he answered.

     Jeyne set her hands onto her lap and smiled nervously.

     “I would like that very much.”  He came up behind her, looking curiously at her work.

    She sat back.

     “What do you think?  It’s the war of the Five Kings.”  Indeed, on it were scenes of battles, of men in armor wearing wolves, lions, stags, and any number of other sigils.  Only the first few panels had been completed, but it was something to behold.

     Theon looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

     “I am speechless.”

       She kissed his hand and regarded his cloak.

      “How is it, bearing your cloak once again?”

      He sat on the edge of his bed.  When he was young and thought of his future wife, a gorgeous creature she would be of noble birth.  A strange, formal yet affectionate relationship.  Talking of the weather and their children, never of state.  Yet now he couldn’t think of another but Jeyne being Lady Greyjoy- a woman educated at Winterfell as he had been, intelligent and sensitive.  He could say whatever about anything to her and they could talk.  She was a friend.

     “It’s heavy.  It grows heavier by the day.”

  ____

      Jeyne wandered the water-gardens.  Although they no natural lakes, they had huge underwater reserves and the frequent rainfall was harnessed.  Decorative statues dotted the ponds, mermaids and large fish encircled a golden kraken, its tentacles reaching out and into the water, its huge eyes narrowed.  Jeyne had been fearful of it at first, its angry ruby eyes staring from behind its massive form.  Now she found it an almost serene scene, and wrapped her shawl around her shift.  Although still considered the North, the Iron Islands were surrounded with currents of warm water from Dorne, insulating them.   She saw the moon, still visible in the early morning hours and was reminded of something. 

  ____

 

     “Mother, I present to you Jeyne Poole, now Lady Jeyne Greyjoy”, Theon said, holding Jeyne’s hand as she bowed to Theon’s mother. 

      “It is an honor m’Lady”, Jeyne replied humbly.  Alannys did not rise, but her face was alight with a small smile and reached a pale hand out.

    “Come here dear child- let me look at you.  Very pretty indeed!” 

    Jeyne relaxed a little, grabbing the cool hand in between both of hers, planting a small kiss.

    “Oh and sweet also!”  Alannys said loudly, almost coming to a squeal.  Theon smiled, his shoulders relaxing a little.  This was the only thing about mother’s loss of senses he was glad of- no interrogations about family status.

    “Theon leave us- you will no doubt have better things to indulge in the chatter of women!”  Jeyne met his eyes, a little fear wavering in them.  He gave her a reassuring smile and a little shrug, bowing and exiting the room.

     Jeyne turned back to the older woman, who’s face was aged with worry but still pretty, long blonde hair drawn under her hood.  Her blue eyes, the same as Theon’s searched Jeyne’s face.

    “Pretty indeed.  Now my dove, how long have you been with child?”

    Jeyne was taken aback. 

    “I am sorry My Lady, I don’t know how you mean.”

    Alannys simply laughed. 

    “Come now- I knew almost the moment my children quickened in me.  It’s something all the women in my family have been able to do.  I hope you have a strong son- of course he will be iron, forged by Greyjoy’s.”  She smiled at her words.

    “I am uncertain now, my Lady”, Jeyne reddened.  “It has been a few months since I had my moon blood…”  Alannys grabbed her hand, squeezing it with affection. 

    “Yes now you have to take care, but you are a sturdy girl.  Good hips- it will be an easy birth.”

    Jeyne sat back in her chair.  Fear spread throughout her, a cold feeling of panic.  If she was unable to carry the child, she didn’t know if she could take that loss again.  A tear streamed down her face and she quickly whisked it away, trying to sniff quietly. Her own mother died giving birth to her younger brother, and Lady Catelyn was too busy with her own children to mother another.

     “Thank you Mother Greyjoy.”

  ___

 

      Jeyne sat up in bed, looking at her hands when she heard the handle of the chamber door turn and the Guard’s muffled voice say “My Lord”.  She had been thinking on it all day…would Theon be happy, or would it be some other responsibility he couldn’t handle?

     He removed his cloak and toppled onto the bed, still clothed.  She rubbed the back of his hair affectionately and he turned on his back, moving to put his head on her lap.

    “Asha left everything a right mess”, he started.  “If I have to hear another Captain saying she promised him the moon and stars and she never paid…I am sorry I could not join you for supper”, he shook his head in frustration and moved his head as if his neck hurt.  Jeyne bit her lip. 

    “I supped with your mother actually.  She is a wise woman.”  He gave a little giggle and nodded, closing his eyes tiredly.

    “My Love…” she started, hesitantly.

    “Yes?” he replied.

    “What do you think of the name Vayon?” His eyes opened slowly and he turned to look at her.  His brow furrowed.

    “Your father’s name?  Why?”

    Jeyne smiled wryly.

    “My father’s name…for our son.”

     Theon didn’t move, his face frozen as comprehension dawned on him. He drew in a large breath and his eyes flickered instinctively to her belly.  He sat up.

    “Our…our son?  My son?  Your son?  Ours?” he asked excitedly.  She allowed herself a full smile, still a little fearful and nodded, a few tears streaming down her face.

   Theon was standing now, pacing in front of the large bed, rubbing his remaining fingers together anxiously.  His vanity forgotten, his mismatched smile played widely on his flushed face.  He came back and sat next to her.

    “Are you sure?” he asked, grabbing her hands.  Jeyne nodded.

    “I am just scared Theon”, Jeyne said, her voice quavering a little.  “I do not want anything to happen to it.  I do not want to lose it.”  Theon remembered the blood at Stannis’ camp.  He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders. 

     “Jeyne”, he said, putting his hand under her chin, raising her face to look into his eyes.  “Nothing will happen to our babe.  If I have to go through all seven hells to protect it, I will.  Fear not.” 

     She smiled and nodded, wanting to believe it so much. 

     “Vayon…” he said, nodding as he said it.  “What does it mean?”

     “It means brave one.”

      “And brave he shall be”, Theon answered returning his head to her lap and rubbing her belly, nuzzling her flesh through her shift.

 


	11. A Day at the Beach

     “You know you are going to lose your hard-earned reputation as Iron Lord”, Jeyne told Theon as he pressed another chocolate-covered strawberry into her lips.  They lay on a blanket, the black sand of the beach comforting her aching back.  He sat back, taking her feet into his lap and rubbing her swollen ankles.  She wore a light shift due to the heat, her enlarged breasts supported by her swollen belly, her legs covered in a towel.  She sat back, surveying her husband and a laugh escaped her lips.

     Theon’s face went into a smile of amusement, again checking down the beach, making sure the guards hadn’t wandered too far but wanted privacy.

    “What?” he asked.

    “I was just thinking on it- if anyone could have told me three years ago I would be Lady of an island, and Theon Greyjoy would be rubbing the feet of a cow of a wife with a smile on his face.  How absurd.  How much of a jape it would have been.”

    He smiled, looking down at her feet.  The smile quickly faded and he sighed sharply.

    “As would I have- but men change.  I was a child then.  And I do not see any cow.  I see a woman who is bearing my child, and whos breasts are even bigger than usual,” he joked, leaning forward to kiss her.  She laughed a little at that, and his hand went to her breast, giving it a light squeeze.  She squirmed, her sensitive nipple throbbing underneath his touch.  It didn’t take much to arouse her now.  She held his head closer to hers, letting her tongue slide into his mouth. 

    He broke from her, breathing heavily.

    “This will be tricky my wife”, he said laying down.  She smiled eagerly, giddy anticipation surging through her, her womanhood pulsing with desire.  She pulled the sheets off of her legs, straddling his form.  He pulled his britches down quickly and she could feel he was as excited as she was.  Jeyne gave him a wicked smile.  She sat on his thighs, always careful of his smashed knees.  She touched his chest, retracing familiar scars.  His hands went up her shift, touching her sensitive breasts and nipples.

    “Ahhh…ooohhhhh”, she gasped, rubbing herself against him.  She went up on her knees, laughing because his face was temporarily hidden by her rounded belly.  He laughed too.

     “Where did you go?” he japed.  Then as she sank down on his hard length his laughing increased.

    “Ah there you are”, he answered, her flushed face coming back into view.  His hands encircled her back, pulling her tighter against.  He had slipped in easy, she was very wet in her desire.

     She sucked in her breath, unabashedly moving back and forth, up and down on him.  He continued to pinch her nipples, unable to suckle at them as he liked.  His hands went to her hips moving her into a rhythm.  She felt him penetrate her deeply, hitting her over-sensitive inside walls, pads of flesh that made her gasp and writhe on top of him.  One hand went to her slit, rubbing her nub fiercely but sensitively. 

     “AHHHH!” she screamed, all sensation seeming to meet at once between her thighs and she crashed down on him, holding him tight against her.  She felt her own wetness double and coat her thighs and his abdomen, but he did not care.  His head was thrown back, his mouth open, eyes shut.  He couldn’t move, she felt so good around him.

     “Ooooh, my Jeyne”, he gasped as he took his own pleasure inside of her.  She ground against him, feeling his release tingle within her.  They both sat huffing, unable to move.

     “I wish…I wish I could kiss you”, she said, her hands on his chest.  She took her leg from around him and he grasped it, giving her knee a little kiss.  She lay on her side next to him, his chest still heaving.  Theon turned to her, kissing her on the lips and the eyelids.  He grasped her hand, their fingers entwining.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we are finished people!

       Robyn Greyjoy finished the last stitch on the soldier’s helmet.  She sat back, sweeping back whisps of wavy dark hair that had fallen into her eyes.

      “Mother I have finished it!” she called.  Her mother came into the room, her brown hair streaked with grey.  Time had been kind, but the wrinkles around her eyes were an ever-fixed part of her face, something that had always been there. 

      “Oh gods!  It is beautiful!”.  The two women looked at the tapestry, around 8 feet long vivid with color, its scene almost alive with motion.  They smiled at each other, the younger ones going into an almost arrogant smile, even white teeth showing behind her full lips.  Her mother swept her hair back. 

     “I want you to take it.  Your wedding is in three months.  It should be part of your household.  Besides I think Hoster Tully would like it- family honor and all that.” 

     Robyn looked at her mother.

     “I thought you wanted it for this house- for Vayon and Donella.”    

     Her mother shook her head.

     “No- our blood has gone into this, women of Greyjoy.  It should go with you.”  Robyn nodded, rubbing her brown eyes with her hands, starting to close off the stitches, one by one taking it off the loom. 

____

 

    Jeyne watched as the Iron Men ripped off Donella Manderly, now Greyjoys’ gown and winced in memory.  Theon had ordered only the gown be ripped and the couple be allowed their small clothes.  The girl was 16, beautiful although gangly.  Theon and her had joked that they would take gangly over obese from the Manderly clan.  Her golden hair was around her, blushing as she shot looks over at her new husband.

     Vayon Greyjoy was surrounded by salt wives and courtiers, a vision of Theon at that age- although his hair was lighter and wavy.  His confident but kind smile looked at his new wife longingly, and soon the couple were whisked up the stairs to the bridal chamber.  A cheer went up from the crowd, before the music started again and the ale flowed.  Jeyne put her hand over Theon’s, who was now in a chair and moved himself about with his arms on the wheels.  The effects from Ramsay Bolton’s dungeon never totally spared his poor legs, and the knees started giving out with alarming frequency.  The chair itself was fine though, a golden kraken fiercely holding on to each wheel.  His white hair sat underneath a circlet of jumping fish.

     “Do you reckon they will be happy?” he asked.

     “Who ever knows these things My Lord.  They certainly seem to like each other well enough.”  He grunted in reply, his rough voice making her laugh. 

 


End file.
